On Pins and Needles
by Laerkstrein
Summary: The Soul Society is finally entrenched within a bloody war against the onslaught of Aizen's army. Twelve onshots, revolving around the Twelfth Division and their struggle to adjust to life under a new captain. -Alternate Events, Character Death, OC-
1. Freedom

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Bleach, _or any of the _Bleach_ characters used in this fic. They all belong to Tite Kubo: the genius behind the captivating manga that started it all. I only own any of my original characters that I choose to include, as well as any of my own original plot ideas.

**On Pins and Needles**

**Chapter 1: **Freedom

**Prompt: **Silence

**A/N: **I find it ironic that my focus for this twelve chapter fanfiction is Kurotsuchi's division. I was originally going to do this for a 12 community on LJ, but rules for writing hinder me. I'm going freestyle, and with my own prompts. Please note that this fanfiction is primarily alternate events written in the viewpoints of characters other than Kurotsuchi. I find it good practice to expand and write other characters (and to also expand the views of my OC).

Kuroda is mine.

* * *

It was horrid, being trapped in such a place. There was no strong-willed bastard for him to fight against, now that the captain had long-since gone. He had been derived from the captain's existence. A clone, if you wanted to get down to the grit. He'd always hated being compared to someone so stiff. Although an artificial being, he'd always craved freedom, relaxation, and peace of mind. All of which were unattainable with the captain around.

But now, it was his time to make the calls. He would be the one to maintain order within both the Department and the Division. A great responsibility, yes. But it was also a chance to be free from pressure; to be lifted up from beneath the thumbs of others. Never again would he cater to another as a subordinate, a servant... a lab dog.

At long last, he had attained freedom.

The sensation had been everything he'd ever dreamed of. Only... not nearly as sweet. The satisfaction remained, but the opposition was something to be desired. It was strange that he so suddenly craved the disapproving glower of his captain, the incessant barking of orders, and the demands for him to obey. It was eerie now. Even peaceful. And, within that gentle peace, he felt utterly incomplete.

As of late, he had discovered that Akon, as well as the others, had become far more jovial, yet remorseful all at once. It could be easily said that they hadn't had an emotional attachment to their former captain. Perhaps it had just been an attachment of habit, or just a state of being. The girl, on the other hand, had failed to carry out any duties he'd given her. As such, they'd fallen to Hiyosu and the others.

At night, he would swear her gentle sobs echoed through the darkened halls, haunting the place.

It was foreign to him, this emotion of hers. Although the two of them were of the same kind, he couldn't quite discover, within himself, where such emotions would lie. He'd never felt the sorrow that accompanied death, although his creator had suddenly vanished from the world. He'd never felt any familial bond with the man, let alone loyalty. So... why was this girl so distraught? They were now entrenched in war with Aizen's vast army. And, as such, people had died and been wounded. She had not been the only one to suffer losses. Captain Ukitake had been taken by his illness early on, and Lieutenants Matsumoto and Hisagi had been crushed by a handful of high-ranking Arrancars. Even Third Seat Madarame of the rivaling Eleventh Division had suffered severe injuries.

As he lay quietly within his quarters, he feared that he would never understand his lieutenant's feelings. He was far more inhumane than she. Perhaps he had garnered that, too, from his captain.

His eyes burned within the darkened room, seemingly lighting the walls with ambitious flames. Having been commissioned as the new captain of the Twelfth Division, he was fiercely determined to change the way his predecessor had set things. He stood, turning to the white captain's haori that hung solemnly on the wall. Upon the arrival of the sun, he, Kuroda Mitsuchi, would adorn himself with that emblem of power, and lead his followers to victory.

* * *

As much as I love Kurotsuchi, I decided to put an alternate spin on this 12-chapter fanfiction. In order to fully grasp Kuroda's character, I suggest that you read through _Vindictive_, which is where he originated.


	2. Blackbird

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Bleach, _or any of the _Bleach_ characters used in this fic. They all belong to Tite Kubo: the genius behind the captivating manga that started it all. I only own any of my original characters that I choose to include, as well as any of my own original plot ideas.

**Chapter 2: **Blackbird

**Prompt: **Despair

**A/N: **Regardless of the number of readers and reviews I receive, I will still continue this. I'm very much enjoying it already.

Kuroda is mine.

* * *

Duties were not to be fulfilled by an incompetent hand such as she. Her life, it seemed, had been one big mess. But now, with her captain gone, she felt as though the ground had vanished beneath her feet. Now that the reality of the situation was beginning to sink in, the world around her was nothing more than a distraction. Paperwork, errands, and various medical procedures were no longer relevant.

She simply wanted to be left alone.

A mystery still remained, whether or not her comrades respected her wish. It had never been an easy task, dealing with her captain. His abrasive nature had been dominant to her timidness. And yet, she somehow missed it. She sometimes would wonder if he had purposely allowed her to develop the emotions she had been facing so recently. He would surely have insisted otherwise, but it would have been that insistence that sealed her suspicions.

The darkness lingered, even with the dying candle held within her hand. It had always seemed that her captain was in control of everything. If her memory served, and she was sure that it did, even the darkness had seemed to cower within his shadow. A sight that she would never again behold.

A heavy sigh escaped her parted lips as she ascended the stairs to the ground floor, walking quietly down the hall and out the doors, giving her free reign of the now empty Seireitei. With all this freedom, she knew not what to do with it. Visit the gentle grass and lily pads that so beautifully adorned the riverbank outside the Eighth Division? Or perhaps the soft blue irises that Lieutenant Hinamori had planted outside the Tenth Division for Captain Hitsugaya?

No, that just wouldn't do.

She needed to talk. One of the few things she'd been able to do while out of the barracks. Upon discarding the burned-out candle, Nemu headed down the streets, taking several shortcuts to hasten herself to her designated target. She clambered through a large shrub on the opposite side of the riverbank, having jumped the swaying currents with ease, and emerged before the open gates of the Fourth Division.

In the dead of night, she didn't expect that anyone would be awake, but still she pressed forward, winding her way around the outside of the barracks to the small porch outside Captain Unohana's quarters. To her surprise, the woman sat upon a small cushion, staring serenely into the koi pond, her gentle eyes following the brightly colored scales of the fish as music began to play. The mere sight of this gentle, yet fierce, woman was enough to turn Nemu away, not wanting to disturb the kindly captain.

"Would you care to sit down, dear?"

Quietly, she stepped onto the porch, and settled down beside Captain Unohana. Nemu turned her head towards the sound of the music, curious as to what it was and where it had come from. Unlike many of the other officers and captains, she had not once set foot into the human world, and thus did not recognize what it was she was hearing.

"Do you like it?" Captain Unohana asked with a smile as she held up the record player. "It seems that, while visiting the World of the Living, Hanataro ran across an older musical style called Jazz, and brought a popular sample back for me. Isn't that sweet?"

Nemu nodded, a small smile creeping across her face. Her first in several weeks. She closed her eyes as the record restarted itself, cranking out a sorrowful tune that began with a lonely horn. It then moved on to the soft, beautiful voice of a woman who sounded the way Nemu felt. She sighed and leaned back on her arms, taking in the words:

_"Pack up all my care and woe,__ Here I go, singin' low,__ Bye bye, blackbird. Where somebody waits for me, Sugar's sweet, so is he, Bye bye blackbird. No one here can love or understand me, Oh, what hard luck stories, they all hand me. Make my bed and light the light, I'll arrive late tonight, Blackbird, bye bye."_

A beautiful tune if she'd ever heard one. But the words... They were so solemn and mournful. She stared up at the blinking stars, curious as to what the writer had been feeling when this had come into their mid. Had they, too, suffered unimaginable loss? Had there been a great war such as the one they were fighting against Aizen? Her green eyes closed, tears slipping out. The sudden feel of Captain Unohana's hand upon her head brought great warmth and comfort to her sinking spirit.

"Although it feels the worst has come, the world hasn't ended, my dear," the woman said softly.

The girl nodded gently as Captain Unohana pulled her close, cradling her trembling form within her arms as the final notes made themselves known:

_"Blackbird, blackbird, blackbird, bye bye."_

_

* * *

_I literally cried the first time I heard this song. It's just so serene a message. The idea to make "Blackbird" the title didn't actually spawn from the song. I had decided that I would try to use something sorrowful as the title, and, for me, a blackbird is just a sad symbol. For the record, the song is "Bye Bye Blackbird" by Ray Henderson (the 1926 Jazz version)._  
_


	3. Listen

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Bleach, _or any of the _Bleach_ characters used in this fic. They all belong to Tite Kubo: the genius behind the captivating manga that started it all. I only own any of my original characters that I choose to include, as well as any of my own original plot ideas.

**Chapter 3: **Listen

**Prompt: **Rain

**A/N: **Akon is not fond of the rainy season. Rin, on the other hand, says otherwise.

Kuroda Mitsuchi is mine.

* * *

The solemn glare of the man reflected in the smooth glass of the window, untouched by the horrid moisture that had invited itself to the Seireitei. He had openly cursed the blasted weather condition while Kuroda, having begun his adjustment to the position of Captain, had made a joke about Akon being a wet blanket. It wasn't like that at all. The man just disliked rain. Always had, after growing up in the Rukongai. Rain seemed to have no boundaries, nor warning signs, there.

He turned on his heel, deciding to busy himself with the new recruits. According to Hiyosu, they were all utterly confused at the fact that everyone had been referring to "Captain Mitsuchi" when their papers said that they would be under Captain Kurotsuchi. Their confusion was understandable, though. Kuroda appeared to have been made as a vague mimic of the captain. The reasons behind his creation were still unclear, and yet, he had been selected by Yamamoto as the next captain.

Akon personally suspected that the boy had been developed for such a turn of events, although the claim had been one of "reconnaissance and demolition."

The man sometimes wondered if this was how his previous captain had felt, being surrounded by so many stupid young men and women who had little to no brain cells. With a special wartime exemption having been put into play, would it have been so surprising for captain-class officers to be numbered among the body count? He'd have to inform the recruits of the change, and teach them who was boss quickly. He didn't want them to crap all over him.

Besides, people claimed that he was a real pushover. He begged to differ with whoever had started that blasted rumor.

Marching through the division corridors towards the barracks that housed the new recruits, Akon passed by a large window, staring out long enough to spot Rin, dressed in a yellow raincoat and matching boots, splashing about in the rain puddles outside. Akon hurried to the nearest exit, standing close enough to the outside of the building to avoid getting soaked.

"Rin!" he shouted over the roaring thunder.

The boy turned, panic having spread across his face. "I-I'm sorry!" he stammered, eyes wide as he darted to Akon's side. "I was just... listening."

The fear in Rin's eyes was enough to inform Akon that the boy was supposed to be downstairs working with Hiyosu. Besides, what was there to listen to aside from the drumming of the rain as it bombarded roofs and windows? The moisture may have been helpful to plants and vegetation, but, otherwise, Akon saw it as nothing more than a hindrance and a bother.

"It's funny," Rin quipped, staring fondly at the bleakly colored sky. "You can never see, let alone smell, rain from downstairs. And yet, it seemed that the Captain would always stare out the window whenever it came around." The boy laughed, his eyes meeting Akon's awkward gaze. "Maybe it's just me, but I think he liked the rain..."

An interesting observation, especially for the likes of Rin, but Akon seriously doubted it. The boy had likely imagined the whole thing amidst all the chaos of war. A result of all the pressures of adjusting to new management. Akon smirked, slapping the boy on the shoulder.

Even if he was wrong, it seemed best to let the boy dream. Let him have something, a peaceful memory, to cling to.

* * *

In regards to the aspects that separate Kuroda from Kurotsuchi, they are as follows: Kuroda's role is that of the stereotypical teenager. He has little to no respect for anyone, hates authoritarian figures, and does what he wants when he wants. He's a _**vague **_replication of his captain. The main physical differences are structure and coloration. He's lanky with dark brown (almost black) hair, and amber eyes. Kurotsuchi's are gold.

Written while listening to Ben Moody's _Too Far Left To Go._


	4. Down

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Bleach, _or any of the _Bleach_ characters used in this fic. They all belong to Tite Kubo: the genius behind the captivating manga that started it all. I only own any of my original characters that I choose to include, as well as any of my own original plot ideas.

**Chapter 4: **Down

**Prompt: **Question

**A/N: **Rin contemplates the memories of the dead. (Please note that, with the less-familiar characters such as Hiyosu, Akon, and Rin, the chapters will be shorter. It's still unclear if Kubo will be developing them further in the future. And I'm really not interested in the complete butchery of innocents.)

* * *

Seven more officers had been felled the previous night, while others had been gravely injured.

Among the dead were Chojiro Sasakibe, Lieutenant of the First Division, Yasochika Iemura, Third Seat of the Fourth Division, and Marechiyo Omaeda, Lieutenant of the Second Division. All good soldiers, loyal to the bitter end.

It was truly saddening to see so many people lost. Hours of delving into scraps of Arrancar information and volunteer medical work did little to change that fact. How many had been saved that day? A half dozen, maybe more, by his personal estimates. Yet, with all the corpses, mangled and preserved, Rin found himself trying to discern the thoughts of each victim. What had they experienced, there, upon the field of battle?

Surely, each minute passed as naught but a blur, leaving little trace of the events within their minds. Had it been horror that struck them as they fell, or merely relief and thoughts of long-sought peace? He stood there in silence, watching as another of Captain Unohana's many healing squads carried in the victims, dead and alive. The boy cringed, watching as the living were brought into the room while the dead were taken down the hall for examination.

Was it really necessary for them to be viewed and observed after death? As far as he was concerned, such a thing was a blatant violation to the memories of their fallen comrades. He turned, his supervisor having given him a fifteen-minute break, trudging out into the hallway. Screams of pain bombarded his ears, chilling him. How long would it last? How long would they have to wait for this carnage to end?

And would the aching souls of the living ever be granted their desired peace?

* * *

Shorter than planned.

Written while listening to _The Funeral _by Band of Horses.


	5. Shameless

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Bleach, _or any of the _Bleach_ characters used in this fic. They all belong to Tite Kubo: the genius behind the captivating manga that started it all. I only own any of my original characters that I choose to include, as well as any of my own original plot ideas.

**Chapter 5: **Shameless

**Prompt: **Remembrance

**A/N: **River tributes to the dead.

* * *

Hundreds of paper lanterns, filled with the gentle flames of pale white candles flooded down the softly flowing river of the Seireitei, the onlookers drowning in their sorrow. The sky, having turned a bitter gray with the setting of the sun and the arrival of the rains, hung over the mourning as if in contempt. Gentle white lilies flew from outstretched hands, falling silently upon the rippling current, only to be pelted by the onslaught of the rain.

A horrid sight if she'd ever seen one.

Captain Unohana had seen her fair share of trial and tribulation, but the scene before her was like a flame: Scarring, eternal, consuming. Casualties of this magnitude had not been seen in decades, having caused their powerful society to all but forget the repercussions of war. The blistering affects of war's bitter wounds had fallen upon a newer generation, creating a new class of veterans, now all too familiar with the carnage.

For several days, she had treated the wounded and the fallen, preparing the latter for their last stand before their friends and loved ones. In the night, she would often hear the voices of the dying as they had passed on in her arms, questioning and fearful, having begged her to save their lives. The wounded, too, had spoken words that had made her tremble. On man, who was still in the recovery wing, had grabbed hold of her arm as he had been brought in for treatment, pleading for the good captain to let him go.

How one could so easily give up all traces of hope was beyond her. Every life was precious, every second vital in creating each individual legacy. And still he had asked to die.

Had several of the other captains seen such a thing, they would have spoken out against the man, speaking of the shame he had brought upon himself as a full-blooded coward. Her eyes narrowed, the faces of her comrades sinking in. Words such as those were cruel, heartless, disdainful, even capable of driving one into the abyss. There was no shame in meeting death with eyes set forward, nor was there shame in fearing the unknown.

Such fears were only natural.

Many a man had died with both fear and honor. All of whom deserved to be remembered with respect as they moved to the hereafter.

Gently clasping a handful of lilies, she relinquished them to the mercy of the water, watching as they spun quietly away in the rain.

* * *

Remember the dead, for they are never truly gone.

Written while listening to _Sky Is Over _by Serj Tankian.


	6. Alive

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Bleach, _or any of the _Bleach_ characters used in this fic. They all belong to Tite Kubo: the genius behind the captivating manga that started it all. I only own any of my original characters that I choose to include, as well as any of my own original plot ideas.

**Chapter 6: **Alive

**Prompt: **Dry

**A/N: **There are no tears to shed for one as cold as the frozen tundra.

Kuroda Mitsuchi is mine.

* * *

His heart had not run dry. There had never been much of a heart to begin with. A pulse, yes. But he had been born without the pains and burdens that mere mortals carried. No emotional strings to tie him to "friends" or "loved ones." Such things had never existed.

From the beginning, he had been alone.

And yet, with the passing of his captain, everything had changed. Even in the midst of war, through all the tears, blood, and broken bones, he had not once felt a twinge of regret. For him, there was no place for weakness. Being one of artificial origin, he had not bee cursed with the weights of the world. The weight his comrades now carried with crooked backs. His purpose had not been to be one of feeling or a beast of burden, but to be a man of, above all else, discovery.

A detestable existence, and one from which he could not escape.

How strange, it was, that the rains had come for days on end while his heart alone remained dry as bone within the desert sands. The hearts of the others bled for the fallen, the wounded, the suffering. He, on the other hand, had remained calm before the storm, unaffected by the bloodshed and bitter carnage.

With his obstacle having been cut down upon the battlefield, he had been freed from the chains of slavery, forever granted a will of his own. Without the captain in his life, he felt nothing more than satisfaction.

Without the man there to impede his progress, he felt nothing more than alive.

* * *

Written while listening to _Without You _by We Are The Fallen.


	7. Voices

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Bleach, _or any of the _Bleach_ characters used in this fic. They all belong to Tite Kubo: the genius behind the captivating manga that started it all. I only own any of my original characters that I choose to include, as well as any of my own original plot ideas.

**Chapter 7: **Voices

**Prompt: **Future

**A/N: **We cannot watch as our tears run dry.

* * *

Death was inevitable.

It reared its ugly head before all living things, eventually dragging them into the dark. Those who had been spared, would then bury the departed with the sands of the planet from whence they came. At least, that was what she'd been told by Lieutenant Rangiku Matsumoto before her passing. A woman such as she had many days in the World of the Living. There had been no reason for her to lie, especially in such trying times as these.

The world also suffered from the recourse of death. Mountains had died as the world had been changing, only to be carved out into valleys. Everything was connected. Each individual living their own story, unknowingly becoming entwined with the rest of the world and its story. Nothing one did in life was vain. Every action was taken into account, thus spinning a wild web of life.

Even the knowledge of such things did little to quell her fears and sorrows. Everything that had happened had been a surprise, one that she had not been prepared to meet with. Horrid consequences came with warfare, sending the living into a spiral of shock, fear, and pain for the fallen. The world could be beautiful, yet wild. Peaceful, and violent. It twisted and turned, teaching lessons to the living, spinning knots in each beautiful web.

Still, it made little sense. Her comrades fought on, and for what? Was it merely duty and honor that compelled them to put their lives on the line?

Confusion had set in, distorting her thoughts. Many a night had she spent contemplating such things. And, upon the rising of each new sun, she still had found nothing. It ran as a cycle as she went about her days, healing the wounded, treating the sick, and mulling over the questions that plagued her.

And, not once, had she noticed that her tears had steadily run dry.

The days came and went, the rain plaguing the Seireitei as if the sky itself was in mourning. Amidst the darkness of each passing night, a voice could be heard, whistling through the trees to her troubled mind:

_ Cast aside the past, reach for the future. For the future emerges with the rising of the day's new sun._

But still, she did not understand._  
_

* * *

The italicized portion of this was written on a whim by yours truly.

Written while listening to _The Never-Ending Story _by Within Temptation.


	8. Stained

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Bleach, _or any of the _Bleach_ characters used in this fic. They all belong to Tite Kubo: the genius behind the captivating manga that started it all. I only own any of my original characters that I choose to include, as well as any of my own original plot ideas.

**Chapter 8: **Stained

**Prompt: **Trouble

**A/N: **War disheartens all.

* * *

With each passing hour, the body count climbed. A few more days of brutality such as this, and it would be possible to build a mountain with the remains of the dead. The whole of the Soul Society had been greatly impacted by the war. All able-bodied men and women who had not been deployed were thus called to the Fourth Division to aid Captain Unohana's squads in retrieving the dead, and patching up the wounded.

Even the researchers from the Twelfth Division, with few exceptions, had spent the last two days performing surgeries and calming patients, thanks to Captain-Commander Yamamoto's request. To his complete horror, Akon had been selected as one of the day's helpers. His attempt to send Rin in his place had failed, as Lieutenant Isane Kotetsu had come to personally "pick him up" for duty. And that, was how he had ended up standing in the sick bay, wrapping bandages, splinting broken bones, and drugging the patients with painkillers to guarantee them a peaceful recovery.

He stared boredly out into the hallway, watching as Hanataro Yamada stood with a clipboard, jotting down the names and statuses of all who had been brought in for treatment. If they were in need of surgery, they were taken by Lieutenant Kotetsu into the operating rooms down to the end of the northern hallway, far from the rest of the patients. Those who had been dead were taken to back outside and around to another building wherein the morgue was stationed. And, in the case of the wounded, they were wheeled into the treatment center, where Akon had been stationed.

Reluctantly, he darted about the room, checking the vitals of each patient, and making notes on his own clipboard of their situations. Several of them had died while waiting for their much-needed surgical procedures. Although the majority of them weren't even seated officers, it was a shame all the same.

A sigh sounded from the door as Captain Unohana, her eyes tired and hands covered with blood, entered the room for the next patient.

It was horrid to see so kind a woman in such a state. Things certainly would have been easier with an extra hand, Akon assumed. Such procedures had always gone much faster, and smoother, with his captain present. Regardless of the man's complaints, it had been well-known that he found solace in such things. A strange way to calm one's nerves, but it had always seemed to calm him down.

Akon stared quietly out the window, his hand having rested itself upon the head of a young woman. The war, it seemed, had stained the world with blood.

* * *

Written while listening to _The Unknown _by Crossfade.


	9. Cost

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Bleach, _or any of the _Bleach_ characters used in this fic. They all belong to Tite Kubo: the genius behind the captivating manga that started it all. I only own any of my original characters that I choose to include, as well as any of my own original plot ideas.

**Chapter 9: **Cost

**Prompt: **Torment

**A/N: **Nemu despises the fact that everything in this world comes with a price.

* * *

How long had it been? Three weeks? Her internal clock was swiftly shutting down. Duties had been irrelevant. She had merely assisted Captain Unohana in a recent surgery. That had been the extent of her labor since her captain had passed. She smiled, imagining the lecture she would have received for slacking off. Strangely enough, it brought her comfort as she sat within the cold, dark room. It was easier on her to imagine how life had been rather than focusing on a future where he was absent.

She had read historical texts about brutal warfare, even those from the human world. All had been horrid, projecting images into her head as she whisked through the pages. Still, all her knowledge regarding the topic could not have prepared her for the real consequences. Such loss of life had only been a heap of listless information up until three weeks ago. Three long weeks, and she'd barely said a word or gone upstairs.

It was awful being around everyone else. They merely continued with their work as if he'd ever even existed. She couldn't stand such things. For, even if they made make-believe, the whole situation was far too real for her liking. They had been kind to her, yes, but their vain attempts to forget irked her.

In truth, it was just as Captain Unohana had said: "Everything comes with a price."

But why had she been forced to pay the price of warfare? What wrong had she done to deserve such sorrow? What sin had she committed to have earned such an unholy burden? Nothing. She had only ever obeyed orders and remained loyal to the cause. For the likes of the ex-Captain Aizen to torment her in such a way... It was such a twisted, sickening feeling that had settled itself within her stomach.

All that was left was to live.

* * *

Written while listening to _Cat and Mouse _by Red Jumpsuit Apparatus.


	10. Black

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Bleach, _or any of the _Bleach_ characters used in this fic. They all belong to Tite Kubo: the genius behind the captivating manga that started it all. I only own any of my original characters that I choose to include, as well as any of my own original plot ideas.

**Chapter 10: **Black

**Prompt: **Fade

**A/N: **The lieutenant's lack of motivation is worrisome.

Kuroda Mitsuchi is mine.

* * *

Her lack of action was disturbing. The girl had done nothing but mope for the last several weeks. How much longer would this go on? He glowered bitterly at the darkened walls, hands supporting his head as he thought. She was timid by nature, which made things far more difficult. Somehow, she would have to be pressed to work with the rest of the Division, even if it meant sending her to aid Captain Unohana for the duration of the war.

That way, she couldn't be near their captain's quarters.

As far as Kuroda was concerned, life was far easier now that his predecessor had moved on. And yet, he was haunted. Tortured by the knowledge of his lieutenant's undying loyalty. She seemed to care nothing for his newfound authority as captain of the Division and president of the Research and Development Department. He was no "Einstein," as he'd heard the humans say, but he was certainly capable in his own right.

The world, it seemed, had lost the dull gray film that had once encased him. Strange how it had vanished when his freedom came to light.

He growled, slamming a fist on the table. To think that, mere days earlier, he'd actually _missed _the confrontations he'd had with the former captain. Quite frankly, he was fed up with opposition after having dealt with Nemu. She was troublesome, and had become nothing more than a burden, a thorn in his side. He clamped his amber eyes shut, tugging angrily at his brown hair. In truth, he was closer to becoming like his captain than before. Even his mannerisms were starting to mimic those of the other man. Bitter curses escaped his lips, driving him mad.

Steadily, his freedom, and his sense of self, were fading to black.

Soon, he feared, he would lose everything he'd worked for. Freedom, power, respect. Very soon, it seemed that it would all be gone.

* * *

Written while listening to _Gone Forever _by Three Days Grace.


	11. Loss

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Bleach, _or any of the _Bleach_ characters used in this fic. They all belong to Tite Kubo: the genius behind the captivating manga that started it all. I only own any of my original characters that I choose to include, as well as any of my own original plot ideas.

**Chapter 11: **Loss

**Prompt: **Blood

**A/N: **Captain Unohana reflects. (Please note that this is meant to be horridly tragic. This is in no way meant to be a pity story. Merely an example of Nemu's undying devotion. Reviews requested and appreciated.)

* * *

She trembled, fighting back the memories that steadily come to threaten her calm mind. At the most ungodly hours of the night they had returned to her, creating chaos within her. Sleep, it seemed, had decided to elude her, leaving her behind within the cold confines of the stormy night. She flinched as the lightning flashed, plunging her room into darkness as it cut the power.

Closing her book, Retsu sighed heavily. Her thoughts flew to the trembling girl she'd left at the Twelfth Division, so unwilling to leave her captain's quarters. She had never once voiced her opinion, but she quite preferred seeing him as a man rather than some unknown, misunderstood creature. Why he had chosen to hide had still remained a mystery.

Why was she even there? He had _died _in that room. Swiftly, contentedly, and in silence. How was it that such a timid child had the strength to reside in such a place? And how was it that he'd been strong enough to go without so much as a care in the world? It was then, staring out the small window, that she remembered. It had rained that night, as well.

She had personally gone to the battlefield to retrieve the wounded and the fallen, while Nemu had eagerly awaited her captain's return, having voluntarily tended to the dying in her haste to be present. What she had seen in that child's eyes, upon their return, had scarred not only the staff, but herself as well. It had never been uncommon to see him wounded, as he'd willingly "adjusted" several of his own functions before duplicating the experiment on a subject. A practice that she'd often frowned upon.

The poor girl had screamed, much to her captain's obvious irritation, when she'd set her eyes upon him. It had only been a natural reaction of shock. His face and hair had been streaked with blood that had visibly stemmed from a deep gash about his left eye. Amidst Nemu's emotional episode, she had made several attempts to sedate him, with no success. He had proceeded to make his will known, even going so far as to swat her away.

Finally, the irritated woman had given in to his demands to be returned to the Department, as he had been disturbing the patience.

Word had it that had rarely he left his quarters, having willingly confined himself therein to avoid being assaulted with questions. During the daylight hours, she had imagined the man busying himself with pouring obsessively over research results and the like. Despite her pressing duties, she had gone in to check on him daily, noting that Nemu remained by his side, worriedly watching over him for hours. Her heart would sink each time she entered that darkened room, watching as he would bleed profusely through the various patches she'd applied.

It hadn't started raining until the fifth day.

All the day long it had poured, and she had been unable to. As the night had fallen, the storm had only grown more violent, pounding down upon the Seireitei, and forcing the inhabitants to take shelter until morning. Nemu had later informed her that her captain had remained silent, a rare thing for a man of his temperament. The girl had remained diligent in her watch, only to have fallen asleep, lulled by the drumming of the rain.

When morning had finally arrived, Retsu had hurried to the Department, only to be met with devastating news. At some point, after sleep had overtaken her, he had slipped away in silence.

She had come a day too late, and poor Nemu had been reduced to tears.

Her mind wandered, noting the last time she'd seen him. Despite the horrid treatments, he had kept that light smirk about him, almost as if he had known what was coming. That's right. Such a thing certainly explained his protests against being kept in the Fourth Division barracks. He had wanted to avoid being fussed over by fearful nurses. Without all the fuss, it had been exceedingly simple for the captain to move on.

The fair captain scoffed, the mere thoughts of her comrade's methods leaving a sickening taste in her mouth. He always had to make things difficult. She trembled, remembering the sobbing girl's words that morning:

_"Why... didn't he say something...?"_

* * *

Written while listening to _Don't Leave Me Behind _by We Are The Fallen.


	12. Sighting

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Bleach, _or any of the _Bleach_ characters used in this fic. They all belong to Tite Kubo: the genius behind the captivating manga that started it all. I only own any of my original characters that I choose to include, as well as any of my own original plot ideas.

**Chapter 12: **Sighting

**Prompt: **Reality

**A/N: **Eighteen years have passed, and the war with Aizen has long-since ended. Nemu Kurotsuchi has taken up the role of Captain. Final chapter.

* * *

Her much-needed day off had finally come, allowing her to take her long-desired trip to the World of the Living. It had been years since she had last set foot in the mortal realm. But that only strengthened the joy she felt when the blazing summer sun shone down upon her, the heat soaring through her skin. Children of all ages darted about the streets of Karakura Town, throwing water balloons at one another in an attempt to cool off.

A small boy, no older than seven, ran past her as he crossed the street, heading to the park to jump headlong into the river. She smiled, watching as another boy followed the first as he was chased by others with water guns. Laughter rang through the air as she watched them play, taking a seat on a bench beneath a small green tree. These human children were very much the same as those living in the Soul Society and the Rukongai: Happy, loving, full of life.

She felt complete as she sat idly by, watching them enjoy their summer day. And yet, her mind kept slipping away as she waited impatiently, hoping to find what she had been searching for. As she idly watched them fly by, the captain grew tired of waiting, deciding instead that her visit had been in vain. She slipped well away before making her climb to the rooftops, darting from one to another as she headed for Karakura High School, which was where she would take her leave.

Staring down at the teenagers who had started a baseball game upon the school's grassy field, her eyes widened, having caught sight of, what she believed to be, her target. With a swift shunpo, she appeared hidden atop one of the trees overlooking the game, eyes searching desperately for the one she had seen.

Just as she set her sights on him, he turned, staring up at her with an unamused look on his face. Could he see her? The boy, a young thing of about eighteen, snorted, rolling his eyes as he smirked, dark hair falling into his face. The resemblance was astounding. She watched in muted shock as he stood, muttering something to the others on the bench before turning away from them, approaching her. He glanced over his shoulder as he stood beneath her, staring up.

"I don't know who you are," he said smugly, the look on his face contradicting his words. He strolled past her, glancing back with a smirk. "Guess I'll see you later."

She smiled gently as she watched him disappear down the street. After years of uncertainty, of never knowing the truth, she could finally put her mind at ease. At long last, she had found what she had been searching for. As she called for the Senkaimon to be opened, she was sure that she had seen him look back at her, laughing in a way he never had before.

Perhaps, her captain had made it after all.

* * *

Written to the song _Is It Real? _by The Seatbelts (song composed by Yoko Kanno, sung by Scott Matthew).


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